


Inure

by ThatFeanorian



Series: To Build The Bonds That Tie [9]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, I think?, Mae's relationship with Mai is not good, Maedhros is not in a good place, PLEASE HEED THE TAGS, Victim Blaming, biased perspective, my take on thangorodrim?, not a happy fic, not happy at all, tw domestic violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFeanorian/pseuds/ThatFeanorian
Summary: Maedhros meets Mairon and sparks fly until everything goes wrong
Relationships: Caranthir | Morifinwë & Maedhros | Maitimo, Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Maedhros | Maitimo, Curufin | Curufinwë & Maedhros | Maitimo, Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë, Maedhros | Maitimo/Sauron | Mairon
Series: To Build The Bonds That Tie [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710157
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Inure

**Author's Note:**

> okay I tried structuring this one a little differently, so instead of one big chapter, there's a few smaller snippets put together to make a story. Let me know how you like it!

It is late September, summer still hanging in the air with the sweet scent of flowers when Maedhros first meets Mairon. He is tall and thin and honey blonde and his smile is so blindingly bright that when Maedhros first sees it he is sure the sun itself has come down from the sky to kiss him with its presence. Mairon is a Junior, a year older than Maedhros, but Maedhros has always been good at English and his elevated class placement is full of both Sophomores and Juniors. 

Maedhros takes his place at the back of the classroom, head down, legs crossed, and pulls out his binder and book, curling into the small corner where he sits, hoping that he will continue to be blessed in his anonymity. In this class, no one calls on him or asks him to participate, he is simply allowed to sit, silent in his place and absorb the beautiful words that his teacher speaks. 

In all of his eighth-grade glory, Maglor has somehow ensnared his first girlfriend. Maedhros met her the week before as they waved goodbye outside of the band room, Maglor burdened with his cello, violin, and guitar. On their way back home from the big brick building where Maglor goes to learn, his brother told him all about Ambalotsë with her golden hair and voice which he claimed could convince the birds she was one of them. His eyes are bright with a spark that Maedhros has never seen before and within Maglor’s music, there is a new refrain, dancing hopeful and fragile between his woven melodies. 

Perhaps it is these thoughts of Maglor and Ambalotsë which summon him, or perhaps Mairon would have come either way, but Maedhros’s mind is suddenly torn back into the classroom where a boy with soft honey-blonde curls who’s big gold eyes stare directly at Maedhros with an expression so soft and curious that for a moment Maedhros is frozen, his mind blank except for those eyes. For a moment time stops and Maedhros has the sudden feeling that the rest of his life is hinging on this one moment, on a decision he didn’t even know he was making, and then time speeds up again, resuming it’s normal marching pace and Maedhros ducks his head, blushing bright red and vowing never to allow such foolish thoughts to take over his mind again. 

He only keeps this promise for a few minutes.

Mairon is placed into the seat next to him right in the back of the class where it is easy to use your phone beneath the desk while pretending to be taking notes. Maedhros has never done this, but nevertheless, he is distracted the rest of the class his usually impeccable notes reduced to messy half-formed thoughts as he sneaks glances over at the curtain of blonde curls separating him from Mairon’s golden eyes. 

It feels like one of Maglor’s idiotic love songs, his heart pounding in his throat and his palms are sweaty, his hands shaking as the bell rings and he reaches down to pull his bag up onto his shoulder and his book falls to the floor between them, lying innocently on the ground. Mairon reaches down and picks it up, giving Maedhros a wide smile and Maedhros’s body goes numb. It is impossible that anyone should be allowed to have such a beautiful smile.

“This yours?” Mairon asks and Maedhros nods mutely, reaching out and taking the book. Their fingers brush as Maedhros snatches it jerkily from his hand.

“Th-thanks.” He mutters shakily, beating a hasty retreat to the door before anyone can see that his face is burning. 

“Hey, wait! You’re Maitimo, right?” Maedhros freezes, a foot from the door, and murmurs,

“Yeah, I am.” His heart is pounding so hard that Maedhros sees stars as he waits for Mairon’s reply and when he finally turns around to see if the other boy is even there anymore he sees a soft smile on Mairon’s face,

“Yeah, that name definitely fits. We should hang out sometime, I’d like to get to know you better.” Maedhros swallowed hard and Mairon gave him another smile, brushing his shoulder against Maedhros’s chest as he walked by and disappearing into the crowd beyond the door. 

Maedhros remained in place for a moment, his head reeling, unable to understand what had just happened. He was Maedhros, that freak that no one ever talked to, the unspoken outcast of his grade. People weren’t supposed to want to be his friends, and they certainly weren’t supposed to want to be more. 

When Maedhros finally left the English classroom, a small secret smile was pasted across his face as the deafening sound of the high school hallways swallowed him whole. Pushing his way through the solid mass of people, Maedhros felt like he was glowing. Someone wanted to know him. Someone wanted to like him. Someone thought that he was… worth something. And not just any someone, Mairon with his honey curls and brilliant smile. No one can know, of course, not even Maglor. He cannot let anyone in on this secret. But still, it sits like a golden bubble in his chest, expanding and beautiful in his chest. 

\-----

It is freezing cold by the lake which is now coated thickly with ice and snow. Maedhros shivers and wraps his scarf a little tighter around his neck and Mairon moves closer, wrapping his arm around Maedhros’s waist, seemingly unaffected by the cold. 

“Aw, babe, you’re shivering,” Mairon says standing up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Maedhros’s cheek and Maedhros shrugs.

“It’s not that bad, I prefer being with you.” Mairon smiles his sweet smile, curls bouncing golden in the sunlight, and squeezes Maedhros closer to him. 

“That’s good to hear. Sometimes I’m worried, you know? You’ve got so many brothers and sometimes I think that maybe you’re more interested in them than me.” Maedhros might be a foot taller than Mairon but Mairon has always been the one in charge. He is older, more knowledgeable, and better than Maedhros in nearly every way, and it is at moments like this --when Mairon opens up and admits that he is lacking in some way-- that Maedhros understands most why that is. 

After all, Maedhros didn’t know that when one was in a relationship it was bad etiquette to spend time with one’s brothers, but naturally, Mairon, being older and more experienced than he, would understand something like this while Maedhros would never. Of course, now that he thinks about it, it would bother Mairon that he spends so much time with his brothers, that he takes care of them when he should be caring for Mairon, and Maedhros curses internally, his forehead wrinkling as he reaches out to touch Mairon’s shoulder, his hand, anywhere that can reassure his boyfriend that he doesn’t mean to act as if he doesn’t care.

“I-- I’m sorry-- Mairon, I didn’t realize-- I shouldn’t spend so much time with them, I know, but-- no I can stop, I promise!” Mairon squeezed his waist and nodded,

“Yeah, I mean it just makes me feel bad that you care more about them than about me, especially after I’ve stuck up for you in school and shit.” Maedhros’s heart constricted in his chest and his hands shook a little as he grabbed Mairon’s, clutching them tightly and shaking his head profusely,

“Oh, oh god, Mairon I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem that way, I-- I really-- I love you Mairon, I didn’t ever mean to make you feel like I didn’t-- I didn’t want--” Maedhros ducked his head and blushed, hoping that Mairon wouldn’t comment on the fact that this was the first time he had ever admitted how much Maedhros cared about him, and to his relief, Mairon just tossed his curls over one shoulder and smiled in relief,

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. Don’t worry about it Nelyo, honestly, it’s just that I  _ was  _ worried, so maybe you can spend some time with me instead of with them?” Maedhros nodded hurriedly and squeezed Mairon’s hand in his, 

“Of course! I-- yes! I’d love to!” Mairon smiled again, and the sight was so beautiful that all the worry in Maedhros’s heart evaporated. Of course, he was making the right decision, Mairon deserved all of him, everything that he could give, and of course, his brothers could get on without him for a while if it meant that he got to make Mairon smile. 

“How about this week? My parents are on vacation so it’s just me in the house. You could come and spend the week with me?” Maedhros’s heart pounds in his throat. A week seems like a very long time, longer than he has ever been away from his family before. He thinks, for a moment, of all the things he does in a week: There is Maglor, who is not yet responsible enough to pick up their brothers from elementary school, and then there is Celegorm who has just entered middle school and is struggling in all of his sixth-grade classes, not to mention little Curufin and Caranthir who argue like none of his brothers have ever argued before. Maedhros knows that his parents are busy, too busy to mind all of them all the time, yet Mairon is here and real and he looks hopeful and so fragile that Maedhros is terrified that his refusal could ruin all.

“Of course, I’d love to,” Maedhros murmured, and Mairon grinned widely, his eyes glowing with happiness, and Maedhros was suddenly sure that he had made the right decision. Anything that could make Mairon smile like that again. Maedhros would move mountains with his bare hands if it meant that Mairon would believe that Maedhros cared for him. 

\-----

It is summer, though Maedhros cannot tell inside Mairon’s house where all the windows are closed and the air is kept cool and dry. Nearly three weeks ago, Maedhros told his parents that he was going to stay with a friend. That the friend was Mairon remained unsaid, as it always has since the day when Fëanor finally revealed what he thought of Maedhros’s relationship. 

When he left home, bags packed and heart thumping in excited anticipation, Maedhros had pictured days in the sun swimming and laughing, Mairon’s smiles, and soft kisses that made him feel like he was floating. Now, Maedhros has not left the house at all. His phone is dead, and he hasn’t bothered recharging it since the first week. Most of the time, he is half-clothed. Mairon tells him that it is better this way.

“Your body is mine and I don’t want you covering it up,” He says, and Maedhros obeys. After all, Mairon knows so much more about how relationships are supposed to work, and Maedhros loves Mairon. He would do anything to make Mairon happy. Sometimes, Maedhros thinks of his brothers and wonders what they are doing, how they are getting along without him. He ponders calling, recharging his phone and checking in, but then he imagines Mairon’s face if he were to do such a thing: the disappointment, the anger, the resentment. He never ends up calling. 

Mairon is his boyfriend, and he deserves all of Maedhros, even if that means that he can’t talk to his brothers anymore. Most of the time, Maedhros is alone. Mairon is busy, he has friends to see, groceries to buy, and so Maedhros is left alone in the house with nothing to do. He sleeps, he eats, he sits with his dead phone in his hands and debates calling someone, anyone, and then Mairon comes home and Maedhros forgets how lonely he is. Mairon is like a ray of sunshine, his bouncing curls and bright smiles make Maedhros’s life have purpose. It makes it worth it to promise one more day, one more day, one more day in an endless pattern knowing that Mairon will kiss him and smile and tell him he’s making the right decisions. But Mairon is not always there. 

Today, Maedhros is alone and his phone is back in his hands as he stares down at the black screen. He wonders where his family thinks he is, it’s not as if he truly has any friends at school, though of course his parents don’t know that. He has never had the heart to counter their assumptions that he is happy. He has Mairon; that has to be enough. And it is. 

It is. 

Maedhros glares at the dead screen and wonders if he should text Maglor. Maglor, at the very least, will be worried. Maedhros hasn’t contacted anyone in two and a half weeks. No one else will notice a difference, but Maglor will. Really, it would be responsible to just reach out and let Maglor know that he is okay… Maedhros stands up to plug in his phone and the front door creaks open. 

“Hey babe!” Mairon calls out, and Maedhros jumps guiltily and drops the phone with a surprisingly loud crash. The screen shatters as it makes impact with the wood floor. Maedhros’s heart is thumping in his throat as he crouches down to pick the phone back up and Mairon appears in the doorway carrying a bag of food. 

“Nelyo? What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice so full of gentle care that Maedhros wants to cry. Mairon deserves better than him, sneaking around and trying to contact his brothers. Mairon deserves these precious moments where Maedhros can devote his time to caring for his boyfriend, and Maedhros wanted to ruin that. 

“N-nothing.” He mutters guiltily, wondering why the simple act of wanting to text his brother seems like such a grave offence, and Mairon dumps the bag of groceries on the couch, walking towards him and spotting the phone in his hand,

“Hey, how did that happen?” Maedhros swallows and replies, 

“Oh, you know, I just dropped it by accident.” Mairon is quiet for a moment and then smiles one of his beautiful smiles, making Maedhros’s thumping heart quiet down a bit, reassured that Mairon is not angry after all. 

“That’s too bad. I guess you can just use mine now, I can throw that away if you want?” Maedhros nods, relieved, and passes his phone over to Mairon who tosses it into the trash without a second glance. Hesitantly, Maedhros reaches out and takes Mairon’s hand, hoping that his boyfriend won’t mind too much if he asks to use it now. After all, he doesn’t want Maglor to worry, and Mairon won’t be mad.

“May I-- do you mind if I use it now?” Mairon’s brow crumples and he tugs his hand out of Maedhros’s, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his own sleek black phone,

“Why? What do you need it for?” Maedhros hesitates for a moment, wondering whether he really needs to contact Maglor, debating just waving his own question away and allowing Mairon to take the lead again, but then he imagines Maglor, worrying about him and unable to focus on his own pursuits. 

“I just wanted to text my brother, you know, to maybe spend some time with him?” Mairon’s response is so swift and sudden that Maedhros has no way to prepare himself as suddenly the hand holding the phone pulls back and slaps him hard across the face. Tears pool in his eyes and Maedhros reaches up with slight disbelief to touch his throbbing cheek as Mairon glowers at him, his face darkened with a degree of anger that Maedhros has never seen before. 

“M-Mai?” He asks softly, ashamed that his voice is shaking, and Mairon takes a deep breath, his rage vanishing as quickly as it appeared as he reaches out to cup Maedhros’s cheek in his hand, his thumb moving gently over the sensitive area,

“Oh, Nelyo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just… you don’t love me? You don’t think that I’m worth spending time with? Why do you want him when you have me? Am I not enough?” Maedhros’s heart sinks into his stomach and he blanches, trembling as he reaches out and grabs Mairon’s hand in his, suddenly understanding. Of course. He never should have asked for the phone. No one is worth making Mairon upset and this is all his fault. 

“No! No that’s not what I meant! I-- I was being stupid... I don’t need the phone... I was-- I was wrong. I’m so sorry.” Maedhros stammers out, wishing he had never even thought of texting Maglor. It was stupid to think Maglor would even be worried, no doubt he hasn’t noticed Maedhros’s absence any more than the rest of his family have. There is nothing that matters more than Mairon’s love and Maedhros has just hurt him again. 

“Oh… oh good. You scared me Nelyo.” Mairon murmurs, tears leaking out of his eyes, and Maedhros’s heart nearly breaks in half. He swears to himself that no matter what happens, he will never ask Mairon to use his phone again. No one is worth Mairon’s tears. 

\-----

It is only a week later that Maedhros breaks that promise. Mairon has finally opened the windows of the house and it is sweltering hot inside the house. Maedhros lays awake, Mairon sprawled on the big bed beside him, fast asleep. At first, Maedhros was hesitant to steal Mairon’s parents' bed in their absence, but after seeing Mairon’s much smaller bed and realizing that there was no way that he would be allowed to sleep on his own, he had agreed that they share the much larger one in the master bedroom. Maedhros has been away from home for nearly a month now and has not contacted anyone in that whole time. His phone is broken, laying in the trash in the living room downstairs and Maedhros has not dared to ask to borrow Mairon’s phone after what happened the first time. 

And yet.

It has become, in the week since Mairon hit him, a continued threat. Maedhros will say or do something objectionable and Mairon will raise his hand as if to strike him, that same dark anger overtaking his face. Maedhros doesn’t know if this Mairon is the same one who he fell for what feels like a decade ago in his English class. Maedhros is scared and confused and more than anything he wants to talk to Maglor. His heart is racing and his mind whirling as he lays in Mairon’s arms, wondering if he dares to stand, if he is strong enough to do what he wants to. 

Ten minutes later, Maedhros very carefully stands, sliding out from between Mairon’s arms and padding across the floor. The door opens with a quiet creak, but Maedhros still cringes, terrified of what might happen were Mairon to awaken. Down the stairs and into the living room, Maedhros sifts through the pile of trash until he finds his shattered phone and pulls it out of the bin, wiping away the film of oil and rotten food coating it’s surface. Heart pounding in his throat, Maedhros tiptoes across the room to the charger and plugs it in, waiting for the telltale ding that signifies that it is still working. He lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding when he hears it, and sinks into the chair next to the charger, turning on his phone for the first time in three and a half weeks. 

Almost immediately, the phone begins vibrating in his hand as text after text begins pouring in, not just from Maglor but from all of his other brothers too. His hands shaking, Maedhros clicks open the phone and presses the call button next to Maglor’s name, praying that his brother will still be awake so late at night. The phone only rings once before Maglor picks up and his breathy disbelieving voice echoes from the other side of the line,

“Nelyo? Where-- What-- are you okay?” Maedhros breaks down, tears pricking in his eyes as he lets out a dry sob at the sound of Maglor’s voice. 

“Káno-- oh god-- I miss you so much. I don’t know what to do-- he hit me-- can you help?” Maglor’s voice is high and terrified as he whispers back,

“What? What the fuck, Nelyo? What’s going on? Where are you? I thought you were going to stay with Mairon, what happened?” Word by word, the whole story comes out from beginning to sorry end and Maedhros is silently sobbing, barely able to get words out as he relays the whole thing to Maglor, tears he hadn’t even realized he was holding back pouring from his eyes as he whispers across the line. Maglor is only in eighth grade. He shouldn’t have to hear any of this, but he is the only one Maedhros has. 

“Nelyo, you need to leave now. You can’t stay there, that fucker… he hit you? I can-- I can wake up dad, we’ll come get you. He can’t stop us--”

“No!” Maedhros hisses at him, “No please don’t get dad. I can’t leave, he’d kill me. I have to-- I have to stay. Mairon’s a good person, I’m just messing up and hurting him and it’s all my fault--”

“All your fault? Nelyo, what the fuck? None of this is your fault! I’m-- I don’t care what you say I’m getting dad. You need to get out of there. What’s his address? We’ll-- we’ll drive there and pick you up now.” Maedhros tries to deny the relief that floods his chest at those words. He is a traitor. He should never have called Maglor, what will Mairon think? Mairon will have him. He can’t go. He has to stay. 

Maglor is coming. Shakily, Maedhros relays the information across the phone, realizing that with every word he is betraying and betraying and betraying. He hates himself, he has ruined everything. 

“Nelyo,” Maglor’s voice on the other end of the phone sounds shaky, “We’re coming. Don’t hang up. It’s going to be okay.” Maedhros ignores him and hangs up the phone. He should go back to bed. He should climb into Mairon’s arms and pretend that none of this ever happened, but he can’t. He has broken something that cannot be fixed and now Maedhros’s father and little brother are coming to take him away. He is half-way up the stairs when he sees Mairon standing at the top of them, an expression of utmost hatred on his face.

“What the hell are you doing?” Mairon snarls, stalking down the stairs like a wild animal approaching its prey, and something breaks inside of Maedhros. He is only sixteen, things like this aren’t supposed to happen. Mairon loves him. Mairon is… Mairon is supposed to love him. 

Voice still dry and cracked from sobbing over the phone to Maglor, Maedhros whispers,

“I’m leaving. I want to go home.” It comes out sounding more like a plea than anything else, but maybe that is all Maedhros is capable of doing anymore, pleading and praying and hoping that someone will listen. Mairon stares down at him for a moment and Maedhros unconsciously reaches up a hand to his cheek to touch the dark bruise that has formed from where Mairon hit him. He is terrified that something much worse is coming, but when Mairon finally responds it is worse than he ever could have imagined,

“Fine. Leave. I knew you didn’t care about me.” Mairon’s voice is cold and Maedhros is frozen for a moment on the stairs. This is so-- so wrong that Maedhros is at a loss as to what to say next. He loves Mairon. More than anything in the world. How can Mairon not see it? How can he not understand that Maedhros was willing to do anything for him? 

“Did you not hear me? Get out! I have better things to do with my time than play around with some stupid kid. Don’t bother getting your clothes, I’ll keep those. They’ll be a fun trophy I can show my real boyfriend.” Maedhros stumbles backwards down the stairs, clutching his broken phone and runs out the door, shirtless and without even a pair of shoes. Somehow, his father’s car is already there. Maedhros climbs inside wordlessly and they drive away. There is nothing more to be said. 

\-----

The clock on Maedhros’s bedside table beeps, informing him that it is time to wake up. He feels it is a little bit useless to have an alarm clock in the summer, especially considering that he has gotten no sleep this night although Maglor fell asleep a few hours ago, curled against his side. 

Maedhros feels oddly hollow inside, like something was ripped away with his departure that he can’t get back. He is home, in his warm comfortable bed with a remarkable lack of Mairon wrapped around him, and this feels good. Better. Fine. Maedhros doesn’t know who he is anymore without Mairon there. It was nearly a year ago that Maedhros first met him and he cannot honestly remember how he is supposed to function without Mairon there guiding his steps. Maybe he shouldn’t have left. Maybe he was wrong.

These are the worries that have haunted his thoughts these last few hours after they arrived home and Fëanor quietly told him to go up to his room and get some sleep. Maedhros has never heard his father quiet before. Fëanor is always loud in his emotions whether it is happiness or anger. 

Letting out a little sigh in his sleep, Maglor rolls over, his head on top of Maedhros’s stomach, his eyelashes fluttering as he dreams, blissfully unaware of the turmoil thundering through Maedhros’s mind. 

“Káno…” Maedhros murmurs quietly, and Maglor mumbles something unintelligible, wrapping his warm arms around Maedhros’s chest and sighing,

“Káno it’s time to wake up.” Maedhros says, pulling his brother up into his arms and Maglor’s eyes flutter open as he looks up at Maedhros in confusion.

“Nelyo? But you’re s’pposed t’be--” He cuts himself off as understanding dawns in his eyes, no doubt remembering what happened the night before, “Oh. G’morning.” He mumbles, and then buries his face in Maedhros’s chest, grumbling about it being to bright. Maedhros doesn’t smile like he once might have, he doesn’t remember how. But he does remember how to hold Maglor in his arms like a baby, hugging him tightly and trying to pretend that it isn’t morning, that he doesn’t have to go downstairs, that it is a year ago before any of this happened when Maedhros was just as alone as he is now but much less broken.

“Good morning, Káno.” He whispers in reply and he feels Maglor smile into his chest,

“I missed you.” He says quietly, and Maglor’s arms tighten around him. It is silent except for the birds singing, but Maedhros is home, so things can’t be as bad as they seem. 


End file.
